


Boys, Be Ambitious

by EspadaIV



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Author Needs Practice, Dom!Ichigo, Dom-ish Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, Eventual Romance, Fighting, Fingering, Grimmjow Is An Emotional Bitch, Human!Grimmjow, Ichigo Turns The Table, M/M, Masturbation, Modern Era, One Night Stand, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, The Author Regrets Nothing, jerking off, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 09:25:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13268517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EspadaIV/pseuds/EspadaIV
Summary: Grimmjow sees Ichigo after several years of being out of his life.  After several weeks of nodding at each other, Grimmjow invites his former lover over for dinner. The blue-haired man decides he wants dessert too. The morning after comes and Grimmjow has to face things... alone.





	Boys, Be Ambitious

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION IN AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. I, EspadaIV, do not own Bleach nor the characters I've used. They belong to their respective owners. Please feel free to comment or leave a review. Kudos are awesome too. Thank you for reading and please, enjoy.
> 
> Who knew doing dishes during a snowstorm and listening to No Doubt's, "New" and Miyavi's "Girls, Be Ambitious" could lead to such dirty thoughts? I needed to take a break from Deep Six because it's a shitstorm as usual... and it's been a while since I wrote boysex... like full on boysex.
> 
> Want Me To Write Something? Send words:  
> Tumblr @Espada-IV! I post more previews here!  
> 

I didn't think it was you when I looked up from getting my morning coffee on my way to work. I ordered the same thing that morning that I had for the past four years since I left.

 

"Coffee with lots of cream and sugar; to go, please."

 

I heard someone gasp as I was digging the money out of my pocket. I glanced up from my search and locked eyes with someone I had not seen since I left school. How could I forget those eyes? A mocha brown with flecks of gold and amber. My ice blue eyes narrowed.

 

How could you be here? Why were you here? I left you in Hueco Mundo. Why were you in Karakura?

 

I swallowed because you’d not changed much since those days. The spiky shocks of orange hair were perched on top of your head like you just rolled out of bed on a winter morning. They practically crackled with static.

 

Shocking.

 

You were always subtle about things, so why did I expect some big transformation? There were a few lines starting to go across your forehead and even how your face seemed much more grown up now. After all, we were adults.

 

The changes were enough to make me momentarily forget who you were. I had not recognized you. You just stood there staring at me like you had seen a ghost.

 

It then hit me why you seemed equally shocked as I was.

 

You’d probably never expected to see me again. I didn't tell you where I was going, I just left.

 

I suddenly wanted to ask a thousand questions. Why were you working in this city? Why were you in this coffee shop? Why did you look so sad? Why did seeing you now make me want to beg for your forgiveness? Why had I worked so hard to push you out of my thoughts?

 

Dammit.

 

After all, I worked towards, seeing your fucking face was going to make me destroy it.

 

I remembered our relationship while in high school. The stolen kisses in hallways long forgotten. The quick gropes while we were partners in class. The rooftop, the bathrooms, the sports field. Those hurried moments that took so much to keep hidden due to our stupid gender.

 

I closed my eyes briefly to remember the first time I took you. It'd been fucking beautiful.

 

You lay under me, propped up by several pillows and your knees. Your face was buried in the mattress of your bed, hands fisting the white sheets. We were at your house, of course, because you had access to things like lube and condoms. Your dad was a doctor.

 

I had my doubts but we couldn't do this at my house. My ma would have whipped my ass seven ways from Sunday and not thought twice about it. I was behind you, touching and telling you to relax. I couldn't calm myself. You were going to be my first ever and it made me nervous.

 

Yeah, we were each others' first. You were my first piece of male ass. You knew I'd fucked other chicks.

 

My fingers trailed down the inside of your thighs. You shivered. I knew where to touch you. You submitted to me. I got to admit, it was love at first fucking sight. I was yours. I had you completely and that was not enough. I had to break you. I outlined it all for you. Mine and only mine. You had to conform to the rules of our relationship.

 

I was such a fucking ass. So fucking stupid.

 

I entered you as gently as possible. I made sure to prepare and study what I was going to do to you. It felt like both heaven and hell. I can remember the pain and the pleasure. The way your nails dug into my skin. The way your mouth bit my neck. The way you cried out as I slid into you over and over, harder and harder.

 

I shook my head to clear my traitorous thoughts. I could not think about this right now. When I opened my eyes, I managed to muster the coldest look that I could come up with at that moment.

 

"Can you not hear?" I snapped more out of irritation that I was starting to become aroused due to the memories flickering through my brain like an old porn on a reel. "Coffee with cream and sugar to go? Now?"

  

The disbelief was gone and the shock was replaced with what I used to call your patented death glare. Your expression became closed and shuttered, not a hint of youthful innocence evident on it. It seemed I had just proven to you that I was still the same asshole you used to know.

 

Some days, I really missed waking up to that look; waking up to you.

 

The second you turned away from me I wanted to apologize. Fuck, I wanted to apologize. Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez never fucking apologized for anything!

 

I sat down at the counter and watched as you made my drink, thumping the paper cup down onto the back counter.

 

How could I have not noticed you working here? You could have worked the afternoon crowd or the evening shift. I only stopped by in the morning.

 

I could not forget the way you moved with cat-like grace. At the moment, it was more like an agitated caged lion who was about to rip someone's throat out but still. The way you moved was fluid.

 

It was stupid but I had this urge to want to feel you under me again. I had ruined all that though. My thoughts once again drifted back to the day I fucked up everything.

 

Why had I looked so surprised as you walked into my bedroom?

 

It could have been because I was drunk. It could have been because I was fucking another guy with black hair and hips that looked like a woman. It was hard and fast; his body slapped against mine. I heard the empty glass bottle hit the floor. You had found it. It was the same bottle that I had been drinking from that afternoon. The noise of it shattering rang in my ears, as I lay there for hours after Gilga left.

 

Sometimes I like to think Gilga fucked me harder than I fucked him.

 

He was a friend. He'd been a friend until we got drunk and I got handsy. Never give Grimmjow vodka. Vodka will equal someone getting fucked.

 

Why'd you come over to my house that day Ichigo? You knew my ma didn't like you or your orange hair. She'd always claimed, "That Ichigo kid is a bad influence!"

 

We'd been together for a year when you caught me. Sorry man. I was tired of being a secret because let's face it, your family didn't know you liked cock either. I could swing it both ways. You were just all for this dick.

 

After that happened and you caught me fucking someone else, you never spoke to me again. I made a fucking mistake, okay? I told you that you were mine and mine alone. I didn't pledge myself to you, perhaps I should have outlined that but I didn't. I didn't have to stick to the rules.

 

After you caught me, I decided I didn't need sex. I didn't partake in it. I jerked off a lot and watched porn but I never saw the need to fuck anyone else. Do you know how fucking difficult that is for an eighteen-year-old male? I was a walking and talking sex machine.

 

Didn't want it; to this day I’ve not really been sexually active. My sex life is drier than the text in The Scarlet Letter.

 

Once more, I shook my head to dispel the thoughts racing inside that empty space. I looked down at the counter, startled to see my order, change, and a piece of paper waiting for me. I took it all and left the shop. I unfolded the piece of paper, hoping to find an invitation penned by your hand. I was very disappointed but not surprised to see what was written. It sure wasn't an offer to an all-night fuck fest with you being the main entertainment.

 

Nope, the scrawled handwriting on a scrap of paper was telling me to find a new spot to buy my morning coffee.

 

I turned and looked in the window of the shop. You were staring at me. Our eyes locked and I had to turn away first. I was ashamed of how I hurt you. I was hurt—no, heartbroken that you never tried to forgive me making a mistake. As I continued onto to my workplace, I kept wondering if you had anyone in your life.

 

Did you have anyone?? Were you playing house with someone else?

 

I found another shop. The coffee wasn’t as good but it was closer to where I was employed, but I still had to march past where you were every morning. It seemed like when I walked by you were standing at the window, looking out. I would nod at you and you would return the gesture. After several weeks of this routine, I was surprised when I saw you sitting at one of the tables that had been placed on the patio. I halted my steps and studied you.

 

It was kind of fucking cold to be sitting outside.

 

You sat with your chin propped up with your left hand and your right hand was tracing the rim of the coffee cup. There was a black scarf wrapped around your neck. I noticed a book lay open on the table in front of you and smiled. Were you actually reading or lost in the memories of our past?

 

I can remember a Saturday morning shortly before our break-up. I was feigning sleep so I could surreptitiously watch as you sat up in bed and looked over at me. You smiled at me. I let my hand drift under the blankets to stroke your thigh.

 

"I knew you weren't sleeping," you said quietly as my hand wrapped around your cock. You continued to look at me as I fisted your hot skin. I somehow knew you were enjoying the sensation of my fingers on you. When you were hard enough I grabbed a bottle of oil and poured some of it onto my hand. "How?"

 

"Your lashes touch your skin when you're sleeping. They weren't—what are you doing?"

  

I waggled my eyebrows in a devious fashion and—

  

I heard the scrape of metal on cement and was shaken out of my reverie. You were staring at me just as I had been staring at you. You nodded first and I swallowed. There was a knot in my stomach as I walked across the seemingly empty street to where you were sitting. You kept your eyes on me as I stopped mere feet from your table. I've got to say, I was surprised when you motioned for me to sit in the chair across from you. I took the offered seat and kept my eyes directed at the table until you spoke.

 

"Grimmjow," you said in that achingly familiar voice. It was like coming home, hearing you speak my name again.

 

"Hello, Ichigo."

 

* * *

 

Why was I doing this? I thought. The keys rattled as I nervously fitted one into the lock to the door of my small apartment. I had elected to miss work that day to talk to you and now you stood behind me. I had invited you back here for dinner.

 

What the fuck was I thinking?

 

The door swung open to reveal a cozy but messy living space. I walked in, removing my coat and automatically hanging it on a waiting hook. I turned around to find myself face to face with you. Your warm eyes locked with mine as you peeled your coat off and handed it to me. I couldn't look away as much as I wanted to.

 

I watched your actions and remembered the many occasions in the past where I saw you grab the lapels of your shirt or jacket in the same manner. The way you shifted your shoulders as the material came from your body. It always amazed me how you exuded sex in even the most mundane of tasks.

 

How had I let this go? Why had I let this go?

 

The look in your eyes was torture for me. It was a look of smoldering lust and hunger. I shifted my weight and waited to take your coat. You knew what you were doing. You must have known what you were doing. You can't feign ignorance when you looked like you wanted to fuck me every bit as much as I wanted to fuck you right back.

 

But still, your face... It was a look that said, "You can't have me, and I wasn't yours in the first place."

 

I finally turned away, hanging your coat beside mine. That's how it was supposed to be, I thought as I looked at our coats beside each other. Fuck I was getting sentimental in my old age. Not that twenty-six was old.

 

I walked through the door that led to my small kitchen. I heard your footsteps in the other room. It sounded like you were rummaging around my living room, poking through the books and movies I owned.

 

"You never liked reading," you said as you walked into the kitchen.

 

I shrugged and looked away from you as I searched my cupboards and refrigerator. Nothing. Empty of anything that resembled a satisfying meal, at least. That meant we would either have to go out or order something to eat.

 

"You want to order something? Cos, all I fucking got is instant ramen."

 

"Chinese; sesame chicken and rice," you said as you hopped up onto my kitchen counter.

 

I nodded and pulled my phone out of my pocket. I tapped on my favorite Chinese place and placed an order. I could hear your feet softly hit the cupboard door as you swung your legs. I hung up and turned back to your orange-haired form beating up my cupboards.

 

I glared at you and said, "Do you want something to drink? I have beer and wine."

 

"Beer is fine, Grimmjow."

 

"It's cheap."

 

"It's what I expect from you."

 

Ow. That fucker knew when to hit below the belt. It stung but I supposed I deserved it. You smiled, got down from your perch and walked toward me. I opened the refrigerator and bent down to grab two bottles of beer.

 

I was somewhat surprised when I felt your hands touch my shoulders, then gently playing over the tense knots of muscles of my spine. I let your fingers stroke the back of my head, and I felt like breaking down right there.

 

Gotta keep it together, Jaegerjaquez.

 

It was so gentle and yet I knew there was a strength in your hands. I straightened up and moved away from you. What fucking game were you playing Ichigo? I didn't want to fall into a trap. This was just supposed to be a nice dinner with two friends.

 

Two _old_ friends.

 

The problem was that we were never friends though.

 

We fought like animals. We threw down on more than a couple of occasions. We beat the shit out of each other. The tension turned into something different when I bit your neck and your lips. I lapped at the blood. A fight that turned into primal fucking.

 

I set the bottles down on the counter and rummaged through a drawer to find the bottle opener.

 

You moved behind me. You were so close that if I leaned back slightly I could feel your chest against my back. I just wanted to touch you again, so I stopped my search and submitted to you for once. That's how it was, wasn't it? I was the Master; you were my submissive.

 

You placed your hands on my shoulders massaging them as if you wanted me to relax. I allowed your hands to stroke my shoulders and then my spine. You grabbed my shirt and pulled it up where I had tucked it into my jeans. Sliding your cool hands under the material, you moved them around to the front of my body and pushed up the shirt to caress my stomach and chest. I shivered slightly as your skin came into contact with mine. I know it was only the pads of your fingers and now you were kissing my neck, jaw, and cheek. I wanted so much to twist around in your arms.

 

We must have stayed like that for at least five minutes. Your hands on my stomach and chest, your lips on my skin. They felt chilled compared to my hot skin. After your hands started drifting towards the top of my jeans, I did turn around in your embrace. Immediately, your mouth found mine, prying it open so that our tongues could entwine. It was just like the very first time I kissed you. It was that first time all over again.

 

I found myself touching you. My hands couldn’t get enough of your cloth-covered chest and feel the hardness of your frame through the layers of clothing you had on. I cursed the fabric that was keeping me from you. I wanted to feel that smooth peachy flesh. I wanted to put my mouth to it so that I could taste it. I was starting to eagerly unbutton your shirt when there was a knock at the door.

 

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK! The worst fucking timing in the world.

 

“For fucks sakes,” I muttered. You chuckled softly. That sent a jolt of desire into my cock which was already hard.

 

As quickly as I could, I untangled my body from yours and straightened my clothing. It figured. I finally obtain something I’ve wanted for weeks, and I’m foiled by the delivery man.

 

I swallowed hard before walking out of the kitchen to the door of my apartment. I had my wallet out already when I opened the door. The man told me the total, which I shoved a bill at him and took the bags. He was still thanking me very much when I shut the door in his face. I didn’t even look at how much I’d given him.

  
  
I was not at all interested in eating now, I just wanted you. As I entered the living room, I saw you almost sprawled across my sofa, thumbing through a paperback book I’d been reading the previous night. The mood was obviously gone, so I set the food down on my coffee table then headed towards the kitchen again when you interrupted me.

 

"Grimmjow?" you asked me in a nonchalant tone.

 

"Huh?"

 

You smiled and gestured to the coffee table where two plates sat, “I made sure they were clean before touching them.”

 

Another jab at me. How had I missed that neat stack of dishes? I pivoted and took a seat across from you in my not-so-favorite armchair. I stared at the floor, my elbows resting on my knees. I was afraid to look at you. I was afraid that I appeared desperate.

 

“I’ve never taken you to be the type to read poetry or be an avid reader of Nick Hornby,” you finally said after several moments of silence. “It seems like you have every book he’s written so far.”

 

Another pause, “When did you become a bookworm?”

 

I could tell by your voice that you were mocking me. I knew it seemed at the time that you had known me that I had never picked up a book because I was so hung up on sexual activities. I was constantly hounding you for it. Books had become my new obsession that had replaced sex. Working hard and books had replaced pleasure and it was damned more satisfying than an orgasm.

 

At least, that's what I told myself while jerking off. I answered with a half-shrug.

 

I finally glanced up at you put the beer bottle to your lips. Books didn’t matter now. No piece of written material could satisfy me because all I wanted was you. I wanted you Ichigo-fucking-Kurosaki.

 

I watched as you rummaged through the bag of food, setting out various cartons. Then with a small cackle of glee, you pulled out two pairs of chopsticks, wrapped in a red paper sleeve. You held out a pair to me but I didn’t take them. I just raised my eyebrows.

 

Your eyes met mine for a fleeting moment, and then you said, “Grimmjow, take these. You’ll need them to eat.”

 

“I've got forks, you know,” I muttered and then returned my gaze to the wood floor.

 

“What?” The question came across as half-amused and half-surprised. “What did you say? I don’t think I heard you.”

 

Oh, you heard me, you bastard. I knew you had listened to my words. You just probably wanted to humiliate me. I don’t know why, but I decided to play along with your game.

 

I glared up at you with a rant building in my mind. “I don’t know how to use chopsticks,” I stated. “I know I’m not the brightest budding chef, but I do have utensils like forks and such. When I get take-out, I use them—“

 

“Grimmjow.” Your voice interrupted my small tirade.

 

“What Ichigo?” I snapped.

 

“Take them.”

 

Again the pieces of wood were offered and this time, I took them from your outstretched hand. I watched as your fingers took hold of the other pieces of bamboo. “Now,” you said, smiling at me. “Chopsticks 101.”

 

“First, hold one chopstick between your palm and your thumb—no hold it at the top, it’s not a—Right then, now use your—no, not like that. Hold the upper chopstick with your index finger, middle finger, and the thumb. The tips should line up if they don’t then you’re not going to pick up anything with them.”

 

I listened to your directions, trying to get this right and not appear as an incompetent fool. It was probably too late for that anyways. I ended up just going to the kitchen and getting a fork because fuck those pieces of wood.

 

I just picked at the food on my plate. I wasn't hungry. Well, I was, but for something completely different. I was hungry for a certain strawberry. I decided to place the ball back into my court. I wasn't gonna fuck around with you and your mind games.

 

I stood to take my plate into the kitchen and you followed me. You mirrored all my fucking movements. What the fuck was that about Ichigo? Why? After you went to go get the rest of the stuff off my coffee table, I ran a hand through my blue hair.

 

We were either going to be fighting or fucking soon. I could tell my mood was headed that way. I wanted to fuck you badly. I knew we were going to fight first. One of us always wanted the upper hand. It just happened to play out that I was the stronger one. I was the one who was able to pin you to the bed, the wall, the floor.

 

My cold blue eyes watched as you put the leftovers in my refrigerator and then extracted two more bottles of beer. You handed me one.

 

"What?" you asked.

 

"Nothing, Kurosaki. Nothing."

 

"Oh, yeah?"

 

Why did your hand slip that cold bottle of beer onto the counter? Why was your hand on my shirt? Why were we getting closer to each other?

 

I threw out any fucking common sense I had and brought my lips down to yours. The moan that came from your mouth was fucking heady. Blood rushed through my body because I wanted to hear it again and again. You must have spent all those weeks fantasizing about me between your legs.

 

I know that's how I spent my down hours. Jerking off, making sure my hand was nice and slick, imagining it was your ass.

 

Could my dick get any harder?

 

The kiss changed and now, it was tender and shy. See, you might come off as an intimidating motherfucker, but I knew the truth. You were a bitch. I knew I was the one in charge. I ran my hand through those coarse orange locks of hair and pulled your head back, watching how you winced at the jerk of my fingers.

 

Pain, _bitch_. Pain is pleasure. We both knew that there was a fine line between them, having experienced them over and over with each other.

 

I proceeded to lick the skin of your neck. I bit down. You didn't disappoint me. You cried out. Being the smaller of the two of us, I manhandled you into the tiny bedroom. It was practically wall to wall bed. I didn't care though about my humble surroundings.

 

That piece of furniture would break before the night was over.

 

I pushed you onto the surface of the bed, watching as you bounced once, twice and came to a stop in the middle of it. I followed you. My tongue was invading your mouth. I tasted every corner of it. I licked those lips. I scraped my teeth against your jaw.

 

You would go home looking as fucked up as you made me feel. Bruised. Raw. Bitten. I would lay a path of carnage across your body and then claim it as my own.

 

The shirts you were wearing, I pulled off of you, leaving you in just the jeans and socks. I pulled my own t-shirt off, flinging it behind me.

 

Your chest had barely any hair on it and the skin was soft velvet over hard muscle. I bent to kiss the skin, smelling a fresh scent of soap, enjoying your hands exploring my back. You grabbed my ass and I almost ripped you in half.

 

You could feel how hard I am, couldn't you? My cock strained against my jeans and pushing into you.

 

We both were muscled. We both were smooth. We both could hit hard when it all came down to it. Had I not fucked up—No. I couldn't think about that right now.

 

I was never for one to make noise other than the customary grunt or growl, but as soon as your hands touched my chest, I moaned. And then you looked at me as if I was a feast and you a man who'd never eaten a morsel of food.

 

If all the blood in my body wasn't in my cock, I might have blushed. _Might_. But you blushed because I was mentally stripping you. I was eye fucking you. I was already imagining what I was going to do to you.

 

We were going to do this, weren't we, Ichigo? After four years, I was going to bury myself inside of you again.

 

I pulled you up, letting our bodies hit each other. We were pressing our naked chests and stomachs together. You were always so fucking hot and feeling that heat against me was intoxicating. I drew you closer to me. My mouth caressed yours before biting your bottom lip.

 

You. Fucking. Growled.

 

It made my cock pulse in my jeans. Fuck, man. I just wanted to crawl inside your skin. I wanted to mesh myself with you. I needed to claim you in a primitive and primal way. I wasn't going to be nice. I wasn't going to play the gentleman.

 

Ain't gonna be anything romantic about this, just a warning, my lover. But you knew that, didn't you?

 

My hands practically tore the front of your jeans open. I was dragging them down your thighs to your knees. I felt your cock as it bobbed against me. I immediately grabbed it then slipped my other hand to cup your balls. Smooth, you shaved recently, bastard.

 

You were making plans, weren't you?

 

Your breathing sounded like it completely stopped as I tightened my fist around your dick.

 

“Ichigo,” I managed to state after a couple of strokes. I was primed and ready to go. I wanted this to last though. I pushed you back onto the bed. The clothes needed to go somewhere else because I was going to have my way with you.

 

"C'mon, Grimmjow. You used to know what I wanted. Right now, I want my cock sucked," you replied.

 

I wanted to tell you I forgot how to. I knew what your answer would be if I said that. You'd say, cocksuckers, don't forget. You'd be correct. I'd never forgotten how your dick felt in my mouth. I continued stroking the firm flesh under my fingers.

 

I licked my lips then looked up at you. Your dark eyes were half-lidded but they were intently trained on me, rather on my mouth. I bit my lip, raking my teeth over the soft flesh. There was a small groan.

 

Then my blue head was between your legs, swallowing your cock. I used my mouth to fuck you, palming your ass at the same time. Your hands threaded and weaved into the light blue strands and I let you control the pace for a bit. I was just trying to focus and not come in my jeans.

 

Your hips rolled as I buried my face against your groin. I knew you weren't going to hold out for long as your cock touched the back of my throat. The way you moaned my name was enough to almost push me over the edge but I didn't want to come this way. I was going to come inside you.

 

I thought I tortured you enough with the head that I pulled back, letting your dick go. You fucking whined. Why did I do that?

 

I answered simply. “I'm taking off my pants. Hold your fucking hormones, Princess. I'll be back with you in a moment.”

 

What did you do?

 

Fucking started stroking your cock, then and there. I could see that it was shiny from the spit I covered it with.

 

I shoved my jeans down my legs as fast as I could then reached into mesh wire box under the bed. Lube was an essential factor when fucking someone's ass. I threw the bottle onto the bed then climbed beside you.

 

What happened?

 

You flung a fucking condom at me. I've never used a condom when fucking you. “What's this?”

 

“Use it or don't fuck me.”

 

“Seriously, Ichigo?”

 

“Who knows who else you've been with? I don't.”

 

“Are you fucking—That happened years ago.”

 

I looked at your face and could tell you weren't amused, and you were very serious about me wearing it while inside you. I threw it back at you. Nope, not gonna happen.

 

“Okay, since you won't wear it, I will.”

 

“Why the fuck do you need a condom—Oh, no.”

 

“I guess I'll be leaving then,” you said and sat up.

 

Panic filled me! No, no, no, no. You couldn't leave. Not while I had you naked and ready to go. I wasn't going to accept that. “No.”

 

“What?”

 

I sighed. “What do you want?”

 

“To fuck you. To finally know what it's like,” you explained.

 

I clenched my jaw because I knew that there was no way in hell I'd ever fucking let anyone do that. But, here I was contemplating it. I sighed again.

 

You just stared at me with those narrowed amber eyes. After a few minutes of silence, you shrugged and proceeded to scoot off the bed. When you were standing beside me, I grabbed your arm. I was fucking angry. I found myself leaning over and kissing you again. My lips trailed over yours, mouths opened and tongues collided. You fucker. You did this on purpose.

 

Why had you orchestrated all of this just to present to me with a situation that you knew I would not agree to?

  
I was on _my_ back, on _my_ bed and you had your mouth on my cock. How could I say no when you had your fingers lubed up and teasing me? You had taken your damn time to ramp me up enough I was willing to beg for it.

 

Ichigo.

 

Ichigo...

 

“Dammit,” I growled as you pushed my knees to my chest. You stopped and stared at me. “Fuck me.”

 

You didn't. At least, you didn't right away. One finger, then two. Your fingers slid in and out of me at a lazy pace. They touched something inside my body that sent my nerves into overload mode. It was too much. I was moaning and groaning as a way to signal my frustration. It wasn't pleasure because all you were doing was making me want to beg for your cock.

 

You threw that damn condom at me again. “Open it.”

 

“No.”

 

“You want me to fuck you without it?”

 

I looked at the wall and away from your face. I couldn't bear it; the look you were giving me but nodded.

 

I felt more lubrication and then the feel of your cock against me. I was opening, accepting your width and length into me. I was allowing this to happen. My eyes slammed shut. Your fingers dug into my hips. Were you holding back?

 

It took several minutes of me trying to accustom my body to the intrusion. I never bottomed. I was the top. I was the master. I was the king. I wanted you; therefore, I was willing to switch to a different role jut to have you.

 

Ichigo.

 

“Shhhh.”

 

I said your name aloud without realizing it.

 

You knelt on the bed, in between my legs, I could sense you there. My muscled legs were in your hands, pushing them up further. Your cock was buried in me as far as I thought it could go but you wanted more; deeper.

 

I was curious, so I peeked at you. Your head was pointed down, and I wondered if you were watching as you pushed inside of me. Did you feel the friction as you drew back, leaving just the head inside my ass?

 

You were slow at first; maybe you were making this all about need rather than want. I was a fool for believing that because soon as I reached for my cock, you trapped my hand, pinning it to the bed. I was suddenly getting fucked hard and fast. You hit something inside of me which made my balls want to explode.

 

You wouldn't let me jerk myself off. You wouldn't even touch my dick.

 

I didn't need it.

 

I was soon coming, pools of the white liquid dripped onto my stomach, and as much as I cried out, you kept fucking me until I felt it. Your hips ground into me. You were in me all the way, how much more did you think would fit?

 

The heat of your release was inside me, spreading. You collapsed on top of me. After your breathing returned to normal rolled off of me and laid beside me. The sensation of your cock leaving my body was hell. I was sore.

 

“Not so easy is it?” I managed to say.

 

“Eh,” you replied. “I could ask you the same thing.”

 

“Tch.”

 

I looked over at you, in the dim light of the room, I could tell you were tired. I knew what happened after you had an orgasm. Sleep was playing its strings and you wanted to listen. We were still sticky with my come. I sat up and found my t-shirt, wiping the mess off of me.

 

You grabbed it from me to do the same.

 

“I should go,” you murmured.

 

“Stay.”

 

I was a fucking fool.

 

* * *

 

Through the sliding door, I could hear the raindrops hit the balcony with little pings as I stood in the kitchen doing dishes. You ate off a plate that I owned and drank cheap beer. The sound of rain engulfed my senses on this cold and stormy night. It had only been a week since I woke up alone. It would be another week of longing and hell.

 

You stayed, but I woke to an empty bed and a sore ass. Why the fuck did you leave Ichigo?

 

In that week, I could only think of you. The way your body fit with mine, your head thrown back in ecstasy, the games you played that night. I shook my head to try and dispel the thoughts and peered out the small kitchen window. I could see the drops of rain coming down hard and splashing on the ground below my flat. A flash of lightning appeared, brightening the street below.

 

I put down the cloth and closed the curtains that adorned the window. The small heater I bought kicked in and the heat that it generated was somewhat comforting, like an old friend. As the hot air hit my skin it reminded me of your hot breath on my neck. Just the memory of last week broke my heart. No goodbye, no note, no words; you just vanished. I shouldn't have been but I was very disappointed that you didn't stay.

 

I ached when I opened my eyes and found every trace of you gone. I should have expected it. The only thing I had to remember you by was the memory. If I closed my eyes, I could almost feel your strong arms embracing me.

 

I sighed and sat down in a chair. Perhaps a beer would help ease some of my gloom this evening. Being drunk was a hell of a lot more fun than dealing with emotions. I sighed again deciding not to get up to get anything to drink.

 

At that moment, a flash of lightning came down and the power went out. I was left sitting in the dark, which was okay until I heard tapping on the door. Moving from my seat, I shuffled across the chilly wood floor to the next room. I walked into the living room, muttering. Who the fuck would be knocking on my door?

 

Could it be you? Was it you? Did I want it to be you? There was a bang. Whoever was standing on the other side of my door was now pounding on it.

 

I felt like screaming, "Fuck off!" but I couldn't. The words wouldn't come to my mouth. I knew who was at the door.

 

I never answered. I slept on my couch that night as I had done since I found you gone. I couldn't bear to sleep in my room. It's amazing how you managed to ruin little things for me. You just managed to stab me in the back when I least expected it. I had been hoping that the entire dinner and sex thing would lead to a reconciling of our differences.

 

I took a different route to work. I didn't want to chance to see your face. I was really starting to fucking hate you and your orange hair.

 

Ichigo, you're such a bastard.

 

A month passed and I found myself taking an old route on a day off. I walked into the same coffee shop. I looked up to see you. However, you were flirting with some red-haired tattooed guy. This is exactly why I stayed away from this place and you.

 

They say knives are more painful when pulled out than when stabbed in. You just pulled out the knife in my back and it fucking hurt.

  
  
You glanced in my direction, but that didn't stop you from stabbing me again, this time right in the heart. I watched your lips whisper into the man's ear.

 

I couldn't do this.

 

I continued to wallow in my agony, drinking more beer than I should have but a knock came on my door the fifth day after I walked into your workplace. I jerked open the door to find you standing there.

 

The first impulse I had was to say something cruel and cold. I held back because you standing there confused the hell out of me. The second impulse was to throw myself into your arms and beg for forgiveness; didn't do that either. The final one was to slam my fist into your face and then slam the door.

 

I just stood there, hungover, looking at you. You stared back at me and finally, pushed me aside and came into the apartment. I was expecting some words or obscenities. What I got was so far from what I had prepared myself for.

 

I got a hot, angry kiss. I got hands clawing at me. I got teeth marks and snarls. I got growls and hair pulling.

 

We were going to fight first.

 

After we lay on the cold wood floor, I'm buried inside of you, I decided to bring it up.

 

“Ichigo,” I said.

 

“Grimmjow.”

 

“I'm sorry.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“What happened to that tattooed asshole?”

 

“Renji? He's a friend.”

 

“Uh huh,” I quipped. “Just like Gilga was a friend to me.”

 

You pushed at my chest but I didn't relent. We were going to fight again, I could tell. This time it would probably be with fists. I was done. I was tired of being without you. The worst you could do to me was leave. So, I said it.

 

“I fucking love you, Ichigo.”

 

You stopped struggling and gawked at me. My words had been strained and ragged because I didn't want to go through losing you again. It was a possibility. One that I didn't want to face.

 

“I think you messed up your word order, Grimmjow,” you said after several moments of silence. “I think you love fucking me.”

 

“I love you.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Did you like it? Hated it? Please let me know by comments and kudos!
> 
> I listened to:
> 
> No Doubt - New  
> Miyavi - Girls, Be Ambitious  
> Amanda Marshall - I'll Be Okay  
> Noah Cyrus - Again  
> Noah Cyrus - Make Me  
> The Offspring - The Kids Aren't Alright  
> OmenXIII - Massacre


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